


The Art of Romance

by sparkle19050



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, M/M, and a bit of angst, as a treat, but not cowboys, idk what else to put here lmao, lots of fluff, ships to be added as they're mentioned, they're gay cowboys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26143840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkle19050/pseuds/sparkle19050
Summary: Inspired by the prompt: you're a security guard who held the door for me and I slipped you my number, please call meA mainly Charthur fic, although other ships are included!!Please don't judge based on the summary fghfghjfgjfg
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston, Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith, Jake Adler/Sadie Adler, Kieran Duffy/Mary-Beth Gaskill
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	1. The Blackwater Art Exhibition

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! Please leave a review if you can so I know what you liked and what I can improve on. I hope you enjoy this! It might be pretty long, it might not. I'm still working on the later parts of the story.

He didn't want to come to this stupid 'Blackwater Art Exhibition.' But of course, he'd had to because Dutch wanted to - something about a kind of 'family bonding experience.' Nothing about that sentence made sense to Arthur. For one - he was thirty-six. What sort of _thirty-six year old_ went on a family bonding experience? Second, if it truly was one of those weird family events, then why wasn't John fucking Marston with them? No matter how much he hated the greasy bastard, he was still part of their ragtag family.  
In all honesty, Arthur was pretty sure that the only reason Dutch had brought him here was to piss him off. Dutch had an annoying habit of trying to do that - if he saw something going on that he knew Arthur would hate? He had to take him. As for why Hosea was there, it was probably only to stop the pair of them from killing each other. If it weren't for him playing peacemaker, Arthur would likely have sent Dutch to the hospital multiple times throughout the past year alone.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by the sudden slam of car breaks, followed by Hosea muttering something about 'you're going to kill me, Dutch van der Linde.' Suppressing a sigh, Arthur climbed out of Hosea's old Land Rover. Once the other two had exited, Dutch locked the car, beginning to walk towards the building. He gestured with a dramatic wave of his hand for both Hosea and Arthur to follow. The pair shared an unamused look but relented, following after the other. As Dutch turned around to face them, Arthur twisted his expression into as much of an affronted look as he could muster. He knew it wouldn't work. After all, Dutch had known him since Arthur was a child. A practically feral child, but still a child. He'd seen that face plenty of times and gotten used to it.  
_Worth a shot, I guess._

"Come on, son! It'll be fun! You draw a bit, don't you? So you can appreciate the artwork here." Dutch gestured with his hands in what Arthur assumed was supposed to be a demonstration of how the art would look.

"Just because I do a bit of sketching now and then doesn't mean I wanted to come to some shitty art gallery. I bet the stuff they have here is comparable to what Sean tries to draw."

"Arthur, you're not seeing it like I am. Just think about all the inspiration you cou-" Dutch cut himself off with an out-of-character yelp as he tripped up the curb. He fixed himself up quickly, flushing slightly in embarrassment.

"Serves you right. Just walk forwards, you idiot." Hosea sighed, rubbing his temples before turning his head to Arthur, a small sparkle forming in his eyes. "There's your inspiration though. Dutch tripping? I'm sure the others would pay to hang that up in their houses."

Arthur couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him, worsened by the embarrassment that he could feel practically radiating off of Dutch. The shorter man kept his usual charismatic tone, but Arthur had known him long enough. He could hear the sharpness in his one and was sure Hosea could too.  
"Well, now that you two have had your little laughing session, let's hurry up and head in, shall we? I, for one, can't wait to see the art." 

Sharing a final look with Hosea, Arthur followed Dutch towards the doors. He turned slightly to watch a singular tabby cat at the end of the car park, tuning out Hosea and Dutch's conversation. As they reached the doors, a man stuck his arm out, stopping the trio. 

"Sorry. Door's locked, I've got to open it for you."

"Why is it _locked_? Doesn't that seem a little dangerous, in case of an emergency?" Hosea queried. He'd always been one of the more logical of the ragtag Van der Linde family.

"Preliminary measures." The man shrugged, "prevent theft, I guess."

It was at this point that Arthur finally averted his gaze from the cat at the other end of the car park. He focused on the man in front of him, feeling his breath hitch in his throat momentarily as he took in his appearance. This man was beyond attractive - a broad chest, long, dark hair, and those eyes. Arthur had never thought of himself as one for cliches, but if he were to be honest? He felt like he could stare at those eyes forever. Unfortunately, Arthur knew the consequences of falling for someone all too well. He would _not_ allow himself to be hurt like that again, no matter how this stranger made him feel. He'd learned his lesson.

...The man was just that. A stranger. Chances were he'd never even see him again. He wouldn't even be able to befriend him. Although Arthur didn't suppose that was too much of a surprise. He'd never been the best with friends. He'd probably wind up fucking it up. And how do you even remain as just friends with someone you're attracted to? Especially if all you have to go off is their personality and-

"Arthur? Come on, my boy. Don't just stand there."

Dutch was staring at him, the confusion clear on his face. So was the security guard.  
...And Hosea. Hosea was staring but with a more knowledgeable look.  
_Damn that old man. He's too smart for his own good._

"Right. Sorry Dutch. I, uh, got a little distracted. I was thinkin' about something."

"You? Thinking? Son, are you alright?" He chuckled at his joke, standing aside to let his 'son' through the door. He gave Arthur a pat on the shoulder as he passed. 

Hosea rolled his eyes at the pair's antics, ushering them further into the building before turning to the security guard.

"Thank you for your assistance here, kind sir. May I request your name? Just in the rare chance that we meet again. After all, you seem a lovely fellow."

The other man raised an eyebrow, clearly doubtful about giving his name to a stranger. Not that Arthur could blame him - he was similar. After an uncomfortable moment of silence, the man answered,

"Charles Smith." He shook Hosea's hand. His face, Arthur noted, had remained neutral throughout the whole conversation.

"Well, Charles," Hosea flashed a polite smile, "I'm Hosea Matthews. My compatriots here are Dutch van der Linde and Arthur Morgan. Pleasure to meet you. Now, if you'll excuse us - I'm sure your job is rather busy, and we have an exhibition to attend to."

Once the trio had entered the hallway, Hosea's expression changed to a shit-eating grin. He whispered something to Dutch, causing him to chuckle. Both of them looked at Arthur, their eyes gleaming. Muttering to himself in annoyance at his parental figures, Arthur raised an eyebrow at them.

"What's up with you two? Especially you, Hosea. I saw that look on your face. You're not at all subtle, old man."

Hosea raised his hands in mock surrender, the smirk not leaving his face.

"I may or may not have just given that man your number."

Seemingly finding it _hilarious_ , Dutch burst into a fit of laughter. He clapped Hosea on the back, harsher than intended.

"The first action our boy's going to have gotten in years and it's only because of you!" 

"What the hell do you mean you just gave him my number?" He stared at Hosea, aghast. Dutch cackling in the background wasn't helping the situation at all. Although, even if he wasn't losing his shit, it would be pretty hard to focus on the fact that Hosea had _given a stranger his number._ How in God's name had he thought that was a good idea? Hosea knew how he was when it came to romance. Awful. And yet he still gave this Charles guy his number?

"Listen Arthur. You're about as subtle as a horse trying to disguise itself as a dog. You were very clearly looking at that man for a moment. And both me and Dutch have known you for long enough to be able to recognize when you're feeling things for someone. I know you don't even know him, but that's why I just.. Slipped the number into his pocket as we entered." Arthur had to give Hosea credit for that - he'd always been a decent pickpocket. And a smooth talker. "So, come on, if he gets in contact then at least try to befriend him? Please?"

"Hosea-"

"No, I'm not taking no for an answer here. I love you like a son, you know that, so you need to understand that I'm doing this for your own good, alright? You've been moping over that Mary girl for way too long. It'll be good to get a fresh start. I've always told Dutch to give you as much time as you needed to get over her, but even I'm reaching my limit now."

Arthur sighed, rubbing at the side of his face. He hated it when Hosea spoke to him like this. While he had good intentions, he just sounded patronizing. After a short while, he relented.

"Fine. Happy now?" His tone came out sharper than intended, but honestly, he couldn't care less at that moment. "I'll give whatever the hell you're expecting me to do a try. Just lay off. And for the record, I am _not_ still moping over Mary." Pausing, Arthur recollected himself. "Just come on, you two. Let's go see this art exhibition bullshit."

"I'm glad to see you're coming around to the idea, Arthur!" Dutch exclaimed, "you're going to love it." He pushed the set of doors into the first room, eagerly explaining some of the statues and paintings to his companions.

 _This,_ thought Arthur, _was going to be a long day._


	2. Babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About five-or-so minutes after he'd arrived back at his apartment, he'd received a phone call from Abigail, asking him whether he was free to look after Jack for a few hours. Something about having to work overtime to make some extra money and Mary-Beth couldn't look after him any longer due to something she'd had planned. So, of course, Arthur had agreed. He couldn't just refuse to look after Jack. Hell, he was the boy's father figure since John was so shitty. 
> 
> And so here he was, making his way to their house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern Arthur would still dress how he does in the game, no you can't change my mind

Overall, Arthur supposed, the art exhibition could have been a _lot_ worse than it had been. He hadn't enjoyed it, but he'd lived through it and had to admit that some parts had been decent. Although if Dutch asked, then he'd say he hated it.

He'd hoped that when he got home, he would have been able to lay down, fall asleep, and forget about everything that happened today. Especially the moment when Hosea had given his number to a stranger. That was quite possibly one of the most embarrassing things that Hosea had done, and he'd managed to find a multitude of ways to embarrass Arthur previously. There was the incident at the zoo, the shower incident... And a lot more that Arthur would rather forget ever happened. This was a new low, though, even for Hosea. 

About five-or-so minutes after he'd arrived back at his apartment, he'd received a phone call from Abigail, asking him whether he was free to look after Jack for a few hours. Something about having to work overtime to make some extra money and Mary-Beth couldn't look after him any longer due to something she'd had planned. So, of course, Arthur had agreed. He couldn't just refuse to look after Jack. Hell, he was the boy's father figure since John was so shitty. 

And so here he was, making his way to their house.

"Of course Marston couldn't spare his own family some extra dollars. Or even look after his own goddamn son." Of course, Arthur didn't mind looking after Jack. He was a good kid and generally pretty easy to look after. It was just that John fucking Marston should have been taking responsibility rather than leaving Abigail as (basically) a single mother. John himself knew how shitty it was to grow up without parents, so why did he think it was okay to leave Jack with only one? Stupid git.

Knocking on the door, Arthur had to admit that the outside of the home was looking pretty bad. Not surprising considering Abigail wasn't earning much whilst trying to care for a four-year-old child. John constantly off doing fuck knows was also definitely not helping. Did he even live with them anymore? 

Arthur made a mental note to ask about that at some point. Asking Abigail was a last resort though - he didn't want to upset her. It was easier to ask around with the other men and see if he'd been crashing with one of them.

It was only at that moment that he realised how stupid he was being by knocking on the door. After all, Abigail wouldn't be back and Jack was _four_ , there was no way he would open the door (at least, Arthur hoped he wouldn't).

Just as he was fumbling to get his keys out, the door opened and Arthur was greeted by Mary-Beth. Arthur stared at her in confusion for a moment before he realised. _Ah, right. Abigail mentioned that she'd been babysitting Jack._. 

"Oh, Arthur! Jack will be glad to see you!" Mary-Beth beamed at him as she stepped aside.

"Mary-Beth," he greeted, tipping his hat as he stepped into the house, "I'm surprised you're still here. Abigail said you had something to do."

The brunette in question's smile grew wider at the mention of that, although it was clear that she was trying to remain calm.

"That would be because I do. I have a date soon. Although I'm probably going to be a bit late since I stayed longer to look after Jack until you arrived... I already let my date know that I'd be late, though. He's a nice guy, he understands."

"A date, huh? Well, congrats. Who's the lucky guy? Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Wait, don't answer that. Let me guess. Is it that nervy feller you met? Kieran, or something like that?"

Just from the blush on her face, Arthur could tell that he'd guessed right.

"Right, that would be him then. Honestly, I expected you to go for someone more manly. Your man practically shits himself if someone like Bill so much as looks at him funny."

"He's plenty fine as he is, Arthur!" Mary-Beth swatted him on the shoulder. "He's just a gentle soul, unlike the rest of you brutes."

Arthur raised his arms in mock surrender. "I know, I know. He's not a bad kid, now go meet him for your date."

She rolled her eyes but smiled at him as she walked away, clearly excited.

Arthur finally shut the door, taking his boots off and making his way to the living room where he assumed Jack would be.

"Uncle Arthur!" The moment he stepped in, Jack launched himself off of the floor and into his kneecaps, grabbing his legs in a hug. As he attached himself to what he had apparently decided was a human teddy bear, he smacked his head against Arthur's knee, causing Arthur to bite his lip to avoid yelling out a word that, if Jack repeated it to Abigail, would get him torn to shreds by the angry mother. A harder urge to contain was the reflex of _kicking at whatever has decided to cling to your legs._ The last thing Arthur needed was to have to take Jack to the hospital because he sent him flying into a wall within five minutes of seeing him.

"Heya, Jackie." He removed the child's surprisingly strong grip from his legs, bending down to ruffle his hair. Jack beamed at him. 

"Uncle Arthur, I missed you! Mama didn't say you were coming."

"Well that'd ruin the surprise, wouldn't it? You wouldn't be so excited to see me if you'd known I was gonna show up."

"I guess so..." Jack's mood only dropped for a second before he perked up, tugging at Arthur's arm. "You need to play with me since you're here! Bethy's nice but she can't _play_ like you do. She's more inch- inter..." 

"Interested?"

"That's it! She's more interested in coming up with stories than acting them out."

"Well that's why I'm the fun uncle, ain't it Jack? I'm here for all your toy and games related needs."

Jack nodded enthusiastically, looking like his head would fall off if he moved his head any more. 

"Mhm! And since you haven't visited in a while, I get to choose our game!" 

Jack always chose what they played anyway, but Arthur figured he'd let the kid have his moment and not correct him.

After a moment of rather dramatic 'oooh's and 'hmm's, Jack straightened himself up, snatching Arthur's hat from the sofa where he'd placed it. 

"I know! We're playing cowboys!" He pointed at Arthur, grinning mischievously, "And you're my horse!"

Arthur chuckled, lowering himself onto his hands and knees to allow the young boy to climb on.

The moment after he'd positioned himself, Jack leapt up onto his back, lightly smacking his head as he shouted "Yeehaw! Giddy up, horsie!"

Arthur couldn't help but smile at his antics, giggling and laughing without a care in the world. It was a shame, thinking about how much Abigail struggled daily just to ensure Jack had a decent upbringing. Arthur had offered to give them money before, with no need to pay it back, but Abigail had refused, disliking the idea of charity. His heart ached for the pair and sometimes he wished he'd married Abigail just to ensure they had a decent home.

It was too late to think about these things though, as Abigail was clearly enamoured with John despite their constant arguments. Arthur on the other hand? He didn't like Abigail in that way anyway. And besides, he'd proven to himself that he wasn't built for love. After the whole fiasco with Mary (they'd both tried, really, but their lifestyles were too incompatible), he'd realised that he wouldn't find someone for him. Sure, the guy at the art exhibition had been handsome and Hosea had given him his number, but it wasn't like he would actually call him or anything, right?

...Maybe thinking about that stuff while you're trying to entertain a four-year-old isn't the best.

Arthur forced himself out of those thoughts, focusing on the sound of Jack's cheering.

_Maybe, just maybe,_ he thought to himself, _I'm fine with everything the way it is._

He spent the next hour continuing to play with Jack, enjoying the boy's company and forgetting about any worries he had. They still had a couple more hours left until Abigail returned, so Arthur was planning some more games to play in order to keep Jack entertained. Jack was in the kitchen eating some chocolate (Arthur had brought a bar with him, knowing the boy had a sweet tooth), meaning that he had at least five or so minutes left before the boy came barreling back in, re-energised and ready to play again.

Arthur was thinking up the final details of their next game (what kid doesn't like to play as a knight?) when his phone suddenly rang. He felt his stomach drop when he looked at the number - it wasn't one of his friends, and it didn't look to be a spam number.

It looked like there was a chance that the man from before had actually seen what Hosea had slipped into his pocket.

Arthur stared at his phone screen for a moment, deliberating whether to pick up or not. Surely there was a chance it could simply be a wrong number? But if it wasn't, what would he even say to Charles? ...That was his name, right? He really hoped he hadn't remembered wrong. It'd be awkward to instantly call someone by the wrong name. That was assuming Charles would want to talk. Maybe he was just phoning to tell Arthur to fuck off, tell him that the old man who had given him his number was dodgy and proceed to block his number so that he could avoid any and all contact with Arthur ever again. That seemed the most likely option. 

It couldn't hurt to just hear him out, right? Even if it would likely lead to any self-esteem he had left (which was... definitely a minuscule amount) being destroyed. After all, he could probably blame Hosea for everything that happened. That way he'd owe him a few favours, which was always good.

After what felt like an eternity, Arthur pressed the accept call button and brought the phone to his ear. 

"Hello?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was clunky and short I'm sorry, I cannot write long chapters to save my life


End file.
